


To Carry Everything One Last Time

by Speary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x1, Angst, Coda, Episode s13e1 coda, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: Dean carried him into the house. He was lighter than he should have been. Dean almost slumped back down to the ground with the weight of the moment. Cas, everything, this body that wasn’t him. And yet it was.A two part 13x1 coda for you. Chapter one is Dean's pov and chapter two is Cas' pov.





	1. Chapter 1

Dean carried him into the house. He was lighter than he should have been. Dean almost slumped back down to the ground with the weight of the moment. Cas, everything, this body that wasn’t him. And yet it was. Dean jostled him closer to his chest to make the carrying easier. His arms curled around the underside of Cas’ thighs, fingers gripping the fabric of his pants. Dean sucked in a deep breath and held it. He couldn’t look down at what he held, couldn’t think about it while looking.

Dean took a few tentative steps toward the house. He felt Cas’ head roll into his chest. He looked down, despite his earlier determination to not look, to just do this one last thing for Cas without falling apart. Cas’ feather soft hair fluttered in the little breeze that was blowing across the lake. Dean felt the air shake through him, the freezing of his limbs in mid-step at the look of Cas, so peaceful, so incredibly peaceful.

_I did this to you._ He would somehow blame himself for all of this forever. He crumbled a little more, knees buckling beneath him. He held on though. Cas was nestled in the crook of his arm, face pressed to Dean’s chest. Dean pulled his arm from beneath Cas’ legs and ran a gentle hand up over Cas’ cheek into his hair. “You dumb bastard,” Dean said. The words were choked out. It would be easier to just be angry. He leaned down to him, lips brushing ever so slightly over the angel’s forehead. 

Dean stayed that way for a moment more, just breathing him in. Then he got his arm back in place and lifted him again. The weight of him, it was the weight of all the world in his arms. Dean took two stumbling steps toward the house before he could really steel himself against the emotions that threatened to topple him again.

He took Cas to the dining room. There was a lone table. He laid Cas out on it, straightened his body with military precision. There was a chair at the head of the table. Dean fell into the seat. He scrubbed his hands up over his face, pressing his palms into his eyes. 

When Jack had blasted them back into the wall, for one small moment, Dean had thought that maybe it had all been a dream, a nightmare. He could just shake his head, wake up, and Cas would be there–Mary and Crowley too. It was real though, too startlingly real.

Dean set his hands on the table on either side of Cas’ head intending to push himself up to a standing position.  _I should cover him._  He glanced into the next room where Kelly had been painting a mural for her child. There was a large tarp on the floor to catch the paint. 

He started to push up, but let himself look one last time. Cas was peaceful.  _Why does he look so peaceful?_ Dean leaned down, pressed his forehead to Cas’. “You’re everything, Cas. You have to come back.” His words were a low murmured thing. Dean breathed in the dust and sweetness that seemed to come from Cas. One tear ran a traitorous path down his cheek onto Cas. Dean hastily wiped it away. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t look at him anymore. 

He was everything. He was everything. He was gone.

Dean got up, walked to the other room, picked up the tarp, and returned. In a few deft moves, he shook out the tarp and laid it carefully over Cas. He smoothed out the edges, and stalked out the door to Sam. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t look back. Now was not the time for him to break.


	2. And From the Ash, I Rise

The land around the cabin was quiet in that way that boded change. No one was there anymore. The ash from the pyre blew about a little on a small breeze that rolled over the lake. There were no birds chirping greetings to the blue sky overhead. There wasn’t the quiet breathing of saddened humans. It was just this, death and ash and silence.

There were embers still in the middle of the ashes. They seemed to throb with an amber glow as the first light wash of air brushed over them, then another breeze would do the same a few moments later. One might look at them and see them as heartbeats in the space where everything was consumed. One might even find hope in there if one chose to look.

The roar of the Impala’s departure was long gone. The sadness lingered though, in this place and with them as they went. If they’d stayed they’d have seen it, the way the embers came together, drawn almost naturally. The breeze rolled in again, more a wind now than something so gentle as a breeze. 

Smoke curled up from the pyre in little eddies. It whirled up as if it was reaching for heaven. The embers throbbed and seemed to cling to each other, becoming one in the ashes. The silence was broken by a windy howl in the trees. There was movement in the pyre, small but there just the same. 

The body that had been there before had been wrapped with gentleness and love. It had been laid on the wood to burn beside another. The smoke had curled up into the sky mixed with the sorrow of those who had set the bodies to burning. And now the embers came together to form a man no longer bound at his feet. He emitted light though, golden and red and bright. He was fire and ash. He moved. He pressed his palms flat against the ashy ground and and rose up.

He was fire. He raised up his hands to the smoke and sky. His head tipped back, and Cas said his first word of his new life, “Dean.” He dropped his head and looked around at the yard surrounding the cabin. He couldn’t remember anything beyond the name and face of Dean. He was still as he attempted to roll his thoughts over the little that he had. There had been nothing for so long, a void and darkness. He had spoken with someone. There had always been Dean, his bright soul unforgettable. 

Cas took a tentative step from the ashes. He brushed at his chest, making a small streak through the ashes that covered him there. He was naked, but he did not feel concerned by that. He walked out of the yard toward a little path that ran along the lake, through the trees. He felt something drawing him that way. He tried to remember more, who he was, who Dean was beyond beautiful and his. He walked until he found a statue of a pirate and a building that smelled of deep fried everything.

He walked around the building until he came to a door with a splintered sign. “Dean?” He could feel something here. 

“Heya buddy?” A voice made him turn from where he stood. A dark haired boy stood to his right. “You okay?”

“I’m looking for Dean,” Cas didn’t say anything else.

“Okay. My name’s Clark. Thought you might be looking for someone named Jack.” Clark’s eyes swooped over Cas’ body. “You and he have a similar style.”

Cas thought about that a moment. “Jack.” He took a step toward Clark. “The baby?” He suddenly remembered something about a child, an important child, Jack. 

“He’s not a baby.” Clark laughed a little. “I could see why you’d call him that though. Dude didn’t even know about candy.” Clark took a step toward him. He grumbled a little. “I’m supposed to take it easy. Got a little injury last time I saw him.” He moved his hand to his side. 

“You are injured,” Cas said as he reached out to him. He set a hand on Clark’s side. He remembered healing Dean, what it felt like to press his grace out to him. There was pleasure in the action, the way his soul seemed to welcome him in. Cas sent out his grace to Clark. It was not the same. It was a job.

“Whoa, what was that?” Clark moved back. He clawed at his shirt, lifting it to see the missing injury. “You..”

“You are healed now.” Cas looked past him. “I need you to take me to Jack or Dean.”

“I don’t know where Jack went, but my mom likely does.” Clark nodded toward the other side of the restaurant. “You need clothes. You can’t walk around with your junk hanging out like that.”

Cas looked down at his body. “You are correct.” He followed Clark into the restaurant, which was thankfully empty. They went into the back and got a uniform before heading to the bathroom. Cas pulled on the pants and the shirt and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. The uniform was tight, but it would do. The clothes were pirate themed.  _Dean likes pirates._  Cas suddenly remembered. “Okay, now you can take me to Jack and Dean.”

Clark laughed, “Sure, dude.” He started to go. “You got a name?”

“Castiel.”

Clark paused. “You’re Jack’s father.” He turned and faced him. “He told me a little about you when we hung out at the station.”

Cas just tipped his head, trying to remember more. Nothing was coming. He felt the connection to Jack, to Dean. He didn’t have all of the details though. Thankfully, Clark just shrugged and lead him away from the restaurant and hopefully to Dean.

He could feel the dull throb and ache coursing through him, like longing. It was Dean. He knew by instinct it was Dean. He’d felt his longing for so long it was practically his own now. There was pain in the longing, deep and crushingly real. It needed healing. Cas sucked in a deep needless breath and hoped he could get there soon.

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for any kudos you feel like leaving and any kind words. You can also find me on Tumblr under the name [Spearywritesstuff](http://spearywritesstuff.tumblr.com/) or more often on Twitter under the name [Spearywrites](https://twitter.com/spearywrites)


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